Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most
by SamCole
Summary: AU, mutli-chaptered fic. Dean is the starring quaterback, Sam is the drama student. Being seniors in high school is all about self-discovery, right? So what happens when these two discover eachother? Rated M for later chapters.
1. Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most

_**Author's Note: Now, let me start by saying I'm not really big on AU fics, this being said I'm very hesitant on posting a Supernatural AU, but I've decided to step out of my comfort zone on this one. **_

_**Summary: AU. Sam and Dean meet in their senior year in high school; Sam is the quiet, studious boy, known for his outstanding roles in the school plays and Dean is the popular, all-American boy as well as the starring quarter back for the football team. But what happens when these two fall in love?**_

_**Rating: M for later chapters though this one is rated T for some language.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural; I do however own this crack-head plotline. I don't own the song "Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most" by Dance Gavin Dance, though it's a marvelous song that inspired this ficlet.**_

_**Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most**_

Dean Williams was everything every high-school guy aspired to be. He was handsome, his dark brown hair trimmed neatly but not annoyingly short, his bangs spiked seamlessly into a cool, confident hair style that always managed to seem both disastrous and hot at the same time. He was confident, able to approach any girl in school, kiss her full-on the lips, walk away and leave everyone in awe of him. He was popular. Everyone seemed to know him and somehow he seemed to know everyone. No one was really his enemy and everyone wanted to be his friend. He was the starring quarter-back for Rivercrest High's Hounds, as well as the team captain. He had led the team to victory at State this year and became _the man to be_.

All of that seemed to vanish the second he met Samuel-fucking-Smith. There wasn't anything exceptionally spectacular about him. He was handsome, in a girlish way. Long honey-brown hair, big hazel eyes rimmed with girly eyelashes, full lips and a dimpled smile that could melt someone's heart just like that. Dean had always been the perfect pin-up of the average heterosexual stud but he'd always had his thoughts about men. When he met Sam after pre-cal one day his heart nearly leapt out of his throat at the sight and every heterosexual thought vanished from his mind as his eyes met Sam's bright hazel orbs.

Dean had always been pretty bad at math and had recently been falling behind in pre-cal. District policy stated that if anyone wanted to participate in sports that they needed a C-average in all their classes or face suspension from a team. When Mr. Chancy had explained that Dean was merely two points away from a D in his class Dean jumped on every opportunity for a tutor, already having a free period after pre-cal and before lunch.

Little did he know that Mr. Chancy's tutor or choice for the athlete was the sex-god drama-kid Sam Smith.

Dean had never had the pleasure of meeting Sam before face-to-face. He wasn't one of those guys who came around a lot. He was more-or-less quiet and reserved and had a few friends in the drama department but was well liked by everyone. Dean's most recent ex-Lisa Waller-was pretty close to him and had mentioned him several times over their 3-month-long relationship, one of the longest Dean had ever been in before she had left him. They were still friends but Lisa hadn't really brought up the drama-student lately.

Suddenly Dean wished he could remember everything Lisa had ever said about Sam now that they were making each other's acquaintance for the first time. The first thing Den noticed wasn't the slight stubble on his chin, or the way the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so faintly when he laughed or even his charming personality.

The first thing that Dean noticed was that Sam was several inches taller than him. Dean only noticed because he was the kind of guy who had to make eye-contact with everyone he spoke to and for the first time in years Dean had to look up ever so slightly to someone his own age.

"I'm Sam," the drama-student said in a calm voice and extended his hand.

Dean's head as spinning when he replied with a languid, "I know."

Just like that they had hit it off. Dean had never felt so exponentially attracted to someone before. He felt like he and Sam worked on the same wavelength, finishing each other's sentences and having so many of the same tastes that Dean swore he had fallen asleep and drifted into some cheesy _Lifetime _movie where he was fated to fall in love with the handsome boy, despite social classes and discrimination.

Four months into a deep rooted friendship Dean witnessed a side of Sam that cut him to his very soul. It was a snow-day in northern Ohio and everyone enjoyed it while they could, including Sam and Dean. Dean had met up with his tutor at Sam's place and was greeted by Sam's mom, Maryanne Smith. She was a lot like Sam in so many ways it was almost frightening. Sam's girlish characteristics were blown into full proportion with the gentle, kind-hearted woman. She had Sam's smile and made Dean feel welcomed the moment she opened the door.

"He's upstairs, probably waiting for you. Go ahead up. Second door on the right. Tell him his mother said that he should invite you over more often, cooking for two is so drab." She chirped happily. There was no snide undertone to her voice, just joy that Dean was at her house. Dean almost felt embarrassed as if his own mother had said something to him-not that Dean knew what it was like to have a mom. His mom died in a fire when he was two. Now all he had was his cranky dad.

Shaking away his thoughts he scampered upstairs to find Sam sitting at his desk. His loose grey shirt hung from his frame, basketball shorts slung just low enough to reveal the black elastic waist-band of his boxers before he turned to smile at Dean who-in hindsight-probably had no right checking Sam out anyway.

Dean gave the slightly younger teen one of his signature grins and flopped down on his bed. "Your mom says you should invite me over more often."

Sam's smile, calm and laced with hints of sleep, melted Dean's heart, instantly warming him up despite the fact he had been in the bitter cold only moments before. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Dean replied nonchalantly and glanced around his friend's room. "And I agree with her."

"That so?" Sam's tone spiked with curiosity.

Dean's grin never wavered. "Yup. Hanging here will be so much better than blowing forty bucks I don't have on coffees at the café every week."

Sam frowned slightly. "I thought you liked the café?"

Dean instantly realized that his words had come out wrong. "I do, don't worry. But I'd rather save up money for our trip then buy over-priced coffee."

The mention of their trip brought a smile to Sam's face just like Dean knew it would. Over the summer the two had decided to fly to Florida, where Sam's aunt had a beach house that they would have all to themselves while Sam's aunt and her family spent the summer in Hawaii. Dean's heart always skipped a beat at the thought of them being alone, together for two whole months. HE figured it should bother him, the strong feeling he had for Sam, but it didn't. Not much anyway.

"So you're going to eat my food then?" Sam's tone was playful, happy again.

Dean relaxed and winked playfully. "You know what they say; the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

Something Dean didn't recognize flickered across Sam's forest green eyes too fast for Dean to comprehend before it was gone. He rolled his eyes and smiled before turning to his desk to grab his pre-cal book. "Ok, so—"

"Not so fast Boy Wonder, I came here to drag your scrawny ass outside. Today we aren't studying; we're going to enjoy the snow." Dean interjected and stood.

"I don't know Dean, we have exams coming up and if you don't-"

"Sammy," Dean interjected, using Sam's nickname in a gentle tone, "we're going to enjoy this snow day. So get your ass dressed so we can go play, alright?"

Sam sighed, and Dean knew he had won. "Ok, but if you fail your final—"

"I won't. Now get dressed, I'll wait for you downstairs." Dean said and slipped out of the room.

Dean would admit later that the snow day had been the most fun he'd had in years. The two went to the park to sled down the hill that was notorious for its ability to break the bones of inexperience sledders. There they raced each other down the hill before gathering up groups of underclassmen for a snowball war that Dean's team won when Dean pinned Sam to the snowy ground and the rest of his team took down Sam' rather flimsy fort.

Sam laughed as the two walked back to Dean's car, his voice echoing in the newly fallen night as snow clung to his hair. Dean swore there was nothing more amazing than Sam's laugh and silently vowed that he wanted nothing more than to make Sam laugh all the time. It was truly amazing that such pure joy could be captured in one person's laugh.

Dean smiled as Sam finally quieted. "Thanks, Dean," he said when they reached Dean's Acura. "For today, it was…the best time I've had in a while."

"No problem," Dean replied affectionately and pulled Sam close to him in a gentle hug. Dean sighed into the fur hood of his parka, taking in the sweet smell of Sam Smith, something slightly musky with a heavy sweet scent that resembled freshly cut grass, clean and pure. He pulled Sam closer, enjoying the way the taller man relaxed into his embrace. He was sure Sam was wondering what was up with the incredibly long hug but Dean really couldn't bring himself to care enough to pull away.

"Um, Dean," Sam's voice was soft and trembling, it was only then that Dean realized he'd had his lips pressed against Sam's neck.

Dean pulled away with a nervous laugh and walked around to the driver's side of the car. He got in and started it up, waiting for Sam to join him. He was surprised when Sam turned and started walking in the direction of his home. Dean frowned, put his car in reverse and pulled up beside Sam. "Hey man, where are you going?"

"Home," came Sam's reply, simple and without emotion.

Dean frowned. "Why are you walking?"

"I really just feel like walking right now, that okay with you?" Sam's reply was sharp and Dean flinched inwardly.

Suddenly Dean realized that he'd screwed up. He'd allowed himself to get too caught up in the moment and now he'd ruined their friendship. "Shit, Sam, about that….I just, I dunno dude, it didn't-"

"Shut up," Sam interjected sharply, "I need to think and you need to fucking go home, alright? Shit I'm not two; my house is a fifteen minute walk from here, ok? So just…go away."

Dean felt angry all the sudden. What was with Sam, getting angry over nothing! It was just one stupid kiss! Hell, Dean wasn't even sure you could call it a kiss, more like Dean's skin brushing against his own. It wasn't like he'd sucked on his neck or anything. "Fine," Dean growled and tore off into the darkness.

In hindsight, that was probably a mistake.


	2. Between You And I

_**Author's Note: So, this is chapter two to my story, **__**Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most**__** and I must say I'm actually enjoying this. R&R for ore cause I have plenty of the chapters typed up already. **_

_**Summary: Sam and Dean confront their feelings head-on and Dean learns things about Sam that changes how he sees things for a long time.**_

_**Rating: um, T? For mentions on blow-jobs, and language. And underage drinking.**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own anything familiar and I promise to put them back where I found them when I'm done. Title is from Anarbor's song "**__**Between You and I**__** "**_

_**Between You and I**_

Dean didn't go home. Actually he went to the café where he and Sam often met up to study to drink over priced coffee. This time his visit wasn't about studying and sipping fancy coffee, this time Dean was there to contemplate his feelings for the other boy. He was deep in the midst of thought and facing his sexuality when his phone sprang to life in his pocket, obnoxious jingle doing exactly what it was intended to as Dean flipped open the device.

"'lo?" He muttered into the phone.

"Dean? It's Maryanne, Sam's mom." The voice was slightly different on the phone but Dean recognized it.

"Oh, hey Ms. Smith," Dean tried to sound relaxed.

"Call me Mary, please. I was just wondering when you boys were coming home or if Sam was just going to stay the night with you?"

Dean's heart almost stopped on the spot. It had been a good forty-five minutes, maybe even an hour since Dean had last seen Sam. For some reason Sam had never gone home. "Yeah," Dean found himself lying, "he's gonna stay at my place tonight if that's ok."

"Sure sweetie, give him my love, tell him to text me when he'll be coming home. You two have fun."

Dean mentally smacked himself for lying to someone as sweet as Sam's mom. "Sure thing Ms.—I mean Mary."

With that the call ended and Dean was out the door so fast that he hardly realized he was in his car. He flipped open his phone and dialed Sam's number. "Pick up, pick up, pick up, shit Sammy pick up," he whispered franticly and tried not to panic. When he didn't get an answer he swore and threw his phone at the dashboard. He was speeding down the highway trying to think of somewhere Sam could walk to within an hour. Just like that it clicked, the reservoir, where all the drama kids hung out during the spring. Sam said he always went there to clear his head and it was a mere twenty minute walk from Sam's place.

Dean took the next exit.

The second Dean's eyes landed on Sam the panic that raced through his body boiled into rage. He parked his car and ran over to him, trying not to lose his footing as he raced down the sharp incline and all but tackled Sam to the ground. He gripped his shoulders and turned the taller teen to face him before he began ranting.

"Shit Sam! What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you _know_ what time it is? For fuck's sake you scared the shit out of…Sam, are you drunk?" Dean stopped mid-rant when the scent of alcohol hit his nose.

"S'what if I'm…?" Sam replied in a slur and shoved Dean slightly.

Dean frowned, his hands automatically going to caress Sam's pink cheeks; they were freezing against his fingers. "Shit Sam," he breathed and grabbed his wrist, "c'mon. You're freezing man."

Sam pulled away and glared half-heartedly at Dean. "Leave me alone. I'm drinking away my woes."

Dean rolled his eyes, only Sam would say woes instead of sorrows or problems. "You can do that at my place, now come on."

Sam jerked away again, this time pulling away so hard he fell back, his ass hitting the snowy ground as he let out an 'oomph'. Dean frowned and knelt down. "Sam," he said gently, "what's wrong?"

Dean was relieved when Sam opened up to him. "What's wrong? What's wrong is that I have the hots for yet another football player who's just gonna use me and leave me."

Dean frowned and brushed Sam's bangs from his face. "What do you mean Sam? You've been with someone on the team before?"

And just like that Sam shut down, his eyes looking down to the snow and his gloveless fingers, pink from the cold. "Can we go?"

Dean sighed and nodded. He'd get more out of Sam when they got back to his house and Sam warmed up. He wrapped his arms around Sam's slim frame and helped him to his feet.

When Dean pulled into the driveway of his small house he was thankful that his dad was working a double shift and wouldn't be home until tomorrow afternoon. Dean would be gone before his dad could ask him anything. Dean led Sam into his house and straight to his room. "Wait here," he said and left, only to return a few moments later with a pair of grey sweatpants and a thermal long sleeve shirt that he'd borrowed from his dad. His dad was taller and a little bit bigger so Dean knew the clothes would fit. Sam thanked him with a grunt and went to the bathroom where he remained for a few moments before he called out Dean's name pathetically.

Dean was there in a second to see Sam's puppy dog eyes turned on him. "What's wrong," Dean asked for the second time that night.

Sam held up his hands, fingers still pink and no doubt numb. "I can't get my clothes off."

Dean let out a gentle sigh and gently took Sam's hands in his. "Idiot," he breathed before pulling away slightly to unzip his jacket and help him out of it. Next came his shirt and Dean frowned as his fingertips grazed the icy skin underneath. "Shit Sam, your freezing."

"I noticed," came Sam's drunken reply. He was gripping Dean's biceps tightly to keep himself from falling.

Shaking his head slightly Dean helped Sam strip down to his boxers and helped him into his dad's clothes. He gently took Sam's hand and led him back to his room and sat him down on the bed, wrapping his heavy comforter around the lean boy.

"Now," he said as he sat beside him, "what were you talking about earlier?"

Sam was silent for a second before letting out a trembling breath. "When I was a sophomore…there was this senior on the football team…he had a girlfriend…so did the others cause let me tell you, there was more than one,…anyway, the point is they all want the same thing. It's different when a guy gives you head, it's like stroking their ego. They have complete control over guys like me who give themselves away because they fall for every guy who says he loves them. They never love you. They fuck you because it makes them feel the ultimate sense of domination. Any guy can screw some girl, no big deal, but when you get another guy to…especially a guy like me…" Sam trailed off into silence and Dean couldn't help but stare in shock.

"Who was it?" Dean chocked out. He was on JV as a sophomore but he knew most of the varsity players then and aspired to be just like them. Suddenly he felt just as sick and twisted as every guy who had ever wronged Sam.

"There was more than one, Dean. Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore does it?"

Dean knew it mattered, he could hear the hurt and betrayal in Sam's somber voice. Dean couldn't explain the feeling that raced through his veins. Rage was one thing. He was so pissed off at everyone who would dare screw around with someone as sweet as Sam.

And then there was the shame. Shame because he had done the same thing to dozens of girls before, he used them to stroke his ego and left them like they were a cell phone or something, trading them up for the newest model every time his became uncool.

The hurt in Sam's eyes was something he had seen in the eyes of those girls too many times before.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, though he wasn't sure who he was apologizing to, Sam or every girl who's heart he had ever broken.

Sam looked over to his friend, the hurt in his eyes changing to something else, something that resembled hope. "You're not like them, are you?"

Dean didn't respond with words, instead he pulled Sam into his arms, embracing him tightly and giving him a silent promise. A promise that he would never hurt Sam the way anyone else did. A promise that he would shower him with nothing but love.

A promise that Dean would keep no matter what.

He sealed that promise with an ever-so-gentle kiss before laying back, holding Sam close to him as they drifted off to sleep.


	3. Kiss the Rain

_**Author's Note: Oh, my, gods. This story has taken me so long, but I've worked as hard as I could to make this perfect! I give a special thanks to my new, amazing beta-reader, soulfulsam. Thanks so much for all of your help!**_

_**Summary: Sam and Dean are enjoying the life of a couple, but Dean learns the boundaries of what he can, and cannot do when it comes to Sam. This chapter is mostly just plot-building, in case you're wondering.**_

_**Rating: I'm gonna stick with T for this chapter, but there is some heavy boy-kissing and language, just FYI.**_

_**Reviews please, they make my heart smile!**_

_**Kiss the Rain**_

Dean let out a bored sigh as he stood outside Mr. Chancy's classroom door waiting for Sam to finish talking to him so he could give him a ride home. His eyes wandered about the abandoned halls and he found himself mildly amused by the lack of activity and sound that would normally take place had it not been twenty minutes after school had ended. Leave it to his geek-boy boyfriend to be the only one nerdy enough to stay this long after school.

He was staring off into space, his eyes unfocusedly fixed on the paint peeling off of the wall beside him when Sam finally exited the classroom, books in hand and a smile on his face. Dean stood from his leaning stance against the wall and gave his younger friend a lop-sided grin. "Have fun? I was beginning to think we were going to be stuck here all night."

Sam rolled his eyes yet let out an amused chuckle. "That would be something. Anyway, we had a lot to talk about. He wanted to make sure I hadn't been giving up to much of my time to tutor you, though apparently it paid off."

Dean arched an eyebrow curiously as they made their way down the hall. "That so?"

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah, you now have a ninety-two in his class."

Dean's jaw all but fell to the floor in shock. "No shit?"

"Apparently all that work we spent has really helped you out. If you get As you might even end up with a high A in his class."

Dean felt his pride swell to a new level and for a damn good reason too; after all, he hadn't had so much as a 'B+' in math since middle school. He glanced over at Sam who was smiling proudly at him, waiting for a reply. Dean glanced around the halls quickly, scanning the long corridors for anyone who might have been lingering in the school after hours before turning to Sam and giving him a gentle, affectionate smile, which Sam returned. The younger of the two always felt special when Dean smiled at him like that. He knew from what Lisa had mentioned that Dean wasn't very big on showing any sort of emotion other than confidence and pride, so whenever that tenderness would flash through Dean's soft hazel eyes, Sam always felt like he was seeing something from a deeper, more vulnerable part of Dean, something he was privileged to bear witness to.

"Thanks Sam."

Dean placed a light kiss on Sam's lips and Sam's cheeks became dusted with a faint pink color, hardly noticeable on his lightly-tanned cheeks. "You're welcome," he replied humbly as the exited the school and entered the student parking lot.

The sun was bright overhead as winter neared its end. Sam pulled his jacket closer as the cold, crisp wind kicked up, blowing his shaggy hair into his eyes. Sam brushed the loose strand away absently, made his way toward Dean's car (a royal blue Acura TSX) and slid into the passenger seat where he then tossed his books to the backseat, which were quickly joined by Dean's. As Dean drove, they chatted about nothing until their conversation eventually fell away, allowing the heavy sounds of Metallica to fill the otherwise comfortable silence.

Dean's thoughts roamed as he drove, drifting from football, to Sam, to math, back to Sam, before wandering off to music only to return once again to Sam. Dean often found himself thinking about Sam, not just their relationship but the other things they did as well, from partying with friends to watching movies. Dean never felt as though Sam took up too much of his thoughts and never felt mushy when thinking about him. It was as if the transition from friends to boyfriends was so smooth that they didn't even really notice it.

There were the little changes, of course, like Dean no longer slept on the floor of Sam's room when he spent the night and instead shared his bed. Another not-so-little change was the affection they now shared. Dean learned quickly that Sam enjoyed a good make-out session, though neither of them wanted everyone to know about their relationship, leaving fewer opportunities for it. They quickly found themselves resorting to things like making out in the janitor's closet or behind the stairs in the gymnasium, even in the locker rooms, but only when no one else was around.

Dean was silently grateful that Sam had agreed to keep their relationship a secret; he wasn't ready for everyone to know that he was into guys, let alone dating one. He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle whatever ridicule would surely come his way. Starring quarterback or not, Dean knew that people would have issues with his sexuality. Hell, there were times he had issues with it. Dean remembered when he first started to realize his feelings for Sam, the twisted denial inside of him mixed in with rage. He tried to hook up with dozens of girls at first, hoping if he submerged himself in the presence of beautiful women that his homosexual feelings toward his new friend would eventually die off.

The exact opposite happened. Quickly Dean found his tastes changing; he began searching for a female version of Sam. Shoulder-length brown hair replaced long blonde hair amongst a list of other things. When he finally found a girl who fit his new type, he was horrified to find that he was unable to perform even when he had himself buried balls-deep in the poor girl, his hands on her breasts and lips pressed into hers. The resemblance wasn't enough. She wasn't Sam.

After the embarrassing evening with the girl, Dean went home and drank till he almost passed out, starring at his refection in the mirror on the back of his door and fighting with himself until after many drunken hours and dozens of broken sobs later he realized that liking Sam didn't change him at all. He was still a man, he was still the cool, confident, cocky football player that every guy wanted to be and every girl wanted to be with. The only difference in him was that he had fallen head-over-heels for Sam Smith.

As for Sam's reason, well as far as Dean knew Sam was in the same boat as him; he didn't want to face all the drama that came with being openly gay, from occasional bashings to the snarky name-calling, though Dean was sure Sam experienced a little of that already. Sam didn't exactly come off as straight. Sure when Dean had first met him he'd been too caught up in Sam's captivating hazel eyes (brown around the irises and bursting into flares of earthy green around the edges) to notice the way Sam dressed, talked and walked but soon Dean was able to pick up on the hints. Sam wore a great deal of deep v-neck shirts and his hair was always perfect, like he just rolled out of bed and bam! His hair was styled and ready for the day. He also noticed Sam had a bit of a sway in his hips when he stepped. the fact that he realized that probably meant Dean had spent to many days checking out Sam's ass when he wasn't looking.

Dean realized now that had Sam been able to hear any of Dean's thoughts, he would have ragged on him for being so stereo-typical but Dean couldn't help it. He'd always been taught that these were the signs of being gay, along with the over-exaggerated, gross valley-girl accent that certain flaming men tended to have (huge turn off as far as Dean was concerned) and often looked for the signs in Sam and other men so he could be sure to avoid them in himself.

They reached Sam's house, drawing Dean from his absent thinking to parking in the long drive-way before him. He glanced at Sam, who paused with his hand on the door handle before glancing back over at Dean. "You're staying for dinner, right?" He asked nonchalantly.

Dean grinned as his stomach letting out a loud growl, earning a chuckle from the younger teen. "I guess that's a yes." Sam muttered as he exited the car.

Dean elbowed Sam's side lightly as they walked toward the house. "You know better than to ask me if I want food, the answer is always yes."

Sam shoved him lightly and skipped up the steps to his porch. "No shit, I'm sure one day you'll eat us out of house and home." He replied as he turned the knob to enter his house.

Dean tackled the slightly taller boy, sending them both cascading into the warmth of Sam's house as the horseplay between the teens ensued. Dean had Sam in a headlock and was in the process of showing gigantore who was boss when Sam's mother entered the room, a smile on her lips as she rolled her eyes at the sight of the two boys.

"Is it in the blood of every teenage male to wrestle one-another?" She asked light-heartedly.

Dean let Sam go and stood, shedding his coat in the process. "You bet. We're animals, attacking each other and grunting like primates to assert our dominance. Can't let Sam think that just 'cause he's taller than me that he's the boss."

Sam shoved Dean as he stood, removing his hoodie and tossing it alongside Dean's on the coat rack. "Right, first I defeat you in a wrestling match, then I take your place as King of the School and rule over everyone like ants." Sam said to Dean, his voice dripping with sarcasm before turning to his mom. "Don't let Dean's Neanderthal mentality fool you mom, he's acing math, meaning that he's got some higher level brain function surpassing that of a caveman."

Dean half-glared at Sam, shoving him lightly. Mary chuckled and hugged Dean in a motherly fashion. "Well done sweetie! This calls for pie! I'll make that along with diner. Sure hope you boys are hungry."

Dean and Sam followed Mary back to the kitchen, the scent of spicy Chinese food and vegetables greeting Dean's nose, making his mouth water, and causing hunger pains to eat away at his stomach at the thought of a home cooked meal made by Sam's mom. No matter what she made it was bound to be better than freezer-burnt fish sticks and canned vegetables that awaited him at home.

"I'm starving!" Dean exclaimed, observing the food that was being cooked on the stove.

"Aren't you always?" Sam's response drifted through Dean's hunger-crazed thoughts, causing Dean to shoot him a look somewhere between a pout and a glare.

"A growing boy needs his food man!" Dean defended himself.

Sam laughed. "Dean, when's the last time you've grown? Freshman year?"

Dean scowled and returned his attention to Mary. "Do you see how your son treats me; mocking my height and undying appetite?"

Mary waved a wooden spoon in a manner that may have been threatening if it had been any other object, at Sam. "Now you be nice to Dean! That's my other son you're talking about!"

Sam laughed and cast a light glance at Dean and for some reason Dean felt he missed something in that quick look. Still, Sam's happy smile seemed to light up the room when he responded, "That should give me even more of a right to torment him."

Dean grinned when Mary gave him a playful pat on the cheek with her wooden spoon and ushered him over to half-chopped ingredients, half-demanding, half-asking him to finish cutting them. Sam, who had a secret love to cook that Dean had discovered only recently, was eager to begin chopping up an assortment of vegetables and some pink meat that Dean hoped was chicken. Mary stirred together sauces and spices, checked the rice and asked Sam how his day was. Sam went on to tell her the same things he had told Dean in the car on the way over, and Dean found himself pre-occupied with a handful of tasks from setting the table, to helping Sam chop food, all the while deep in thought.

Watching Sam and Mary joke and play, Dean had never more part of something than he did at that moment. At his home, he had a dad who worked third shift and hadn't said more than five words to him since he was twelve. Dean had never realized what he had been missing until then, when he observed and experienced what it was like to be part of a family.

Mary drew his attention once more when she handed him a heavy pot of inhumanly delicious smelling Chinese food (Sam would later tell him it was called Chicken Teriyaki and Dean, always teasing him playfully, would call him gay) and asked him to set it on the table. Dean smiled and gladly took the pot to the table. When he looked back up and saw Mary's appreciative, mothering smile, Dean felt as if, for the first time since he was five, he had a mother.

Dean let out a content burp as he entered Sam's room, earning a light chuckle from the younger as he flopped down on Sam's bed, making himself comfortable before stating, "Dude, you know your mom is awesome, right?"

Sam smiled softly, his hazel eyes glancing up at Dean affectionately before returning to his DVD collection for a movie. He couldn't agree more, as far as moms went, his was probably the best. Totally laid back, understanding, fun and nurturing, as well as fair; what more could Sam ask for in a single mom who worked hard to make sure Sam was the guy he was now?

"_Insidious_ okay with you?" Sam asked, pulling the DVD case out and tearing off the plastic wrapping.

"Dude, I've been looking forward to that thing coming out for the past few months!" Dean replied eagerly, his heart rate increasing at the thought of watching a horror movie with Sam. Perfect excuse to hold him (because Dean was a man, and men didn't cuddle; they did, however, embrace frightened lovers and Sam, though massive, was like a little girl when it came to horror movies.)

Sam grinned and hit play, flopping down on the bed with Dean and silently swearing that he would not allow this movie to frighten him into Dean's arms like some skittish puppy. Of course, fifteen minutes into the movie when weird voices and bloody hand-prints began to show up, Sam found himself scooting closer and closer to Dean until his face was half-buried in his chest. Dean's soft chuckle drew Sam's attention, the younger of the two shot the smaller a look somewhere between a pout and a glare, a look that Dean was slowly begin to love and would later patent as the 'bitch-face'.

"What?" Sam quipped defensively and Dean gave him a full on shit-eating grin.

"I think it's pretty amusing that a seventeen-year-old, just shy of eighteen, and standing at a massive six foot four, would be frightened by picture on a television and some corny sound effects."

Sam wanted to smack that cocky grin off his boyfriend's face, but instead settled for sulking, something that seemed rather pointless while enclosed in Dean's arms.

"Jerk," he muttered.

"Bitch," came Dean's reply, accompanied by a kiss to the top of Sam's head.

Sam couldn't even pretend to be annoyed after that, and turned his attention back to Dean, his strong facial structure outlined in the white-blue glow of the television's light, making him seem both frightening and beautiful, much like the man himself was. Beautiful in his flawless face, perfectly plump pink limps and skin sun-kissed from days out on football fields playing around with other athletes.

"Why don't you ever call my mom 'mom'," Sam asked, Dean's eyes turning away from the gory scene on the television.

"What do you mean?" He asked, head tilting slightly.

Sam shrugged. "You should just call her mom, other people do, but you're probably the only one she considers a son."

Dean grinned. "Wonder why that is," he replied, turning slightly so his body became better aligned with Sam's larger one, both of them now laying on their sides, facing one another.

Sam couldn't help but notice-and savor-the closeness between the two when he replied, "Couldn't be because you practically live here."

"Nope."

"Or the fact she makes you dinner"

"No way"

"Maybe it's cause she's done your laundry before?"

"That can't be it."

"Maybe she knows we're together."

Dean went quiet before looking at Sam who had begun to look nervous, as if he had said the wrong thing. Dean smiled and pressed a light kiss against Sam's lips.

"Maybe." He murmured against Sam's lips.

Sam smiled softly, his hand sliding over Dean's jaw, wrapping behind the base of his neck and pressing a series of soft, affectionate kisses to his lips. Dean grinned into the kisses and returned them happily. Quickly though, gentle kisses turned passionate and Sam found Dean's tongue sliding over his lower lip, asking for entrance into Sam's mouth. Sam's lips parted with a soft moan and Dean's tongue slid inside. Their tongues danced over each other briefly, dueling with one another and trying to gain the upper hand even though they both knew Sam would give up and allow Dean to take the lead. The moment Dean took control of the kiss the passion changed. Sam's body pressed closer to Dean's, his hand slid up Dean's arm, lightly gripping his bicep and subconsciously pulling oh so slightly, his other hand that had been wrapped around the base of Dean's neck, slid up, lightly gripping the short brown locks, assisting in the gentle tug.

Just like that Dean was over him, his knees on either side of Sam's slender hips as the kiss intensified. They moved lazily, Sam's hands fisting against Dean's shoulders as they smashed their lips together. Their breathing melted away to breathy pants and Sam began whimpering in pleasure, a sound that sent warmth throughout Dean's body. Sam was writhing under him, pressing their chests together and slowly Dean's hands began to wander over the slightly younger boy's chest, thumbing his nipples through the thin cotton fabric of Sam's grey t-shirt, causing him to let out a whisper of a moan.

Gaining in confidence as Dean ravished his boyfriend's lips he slid his hands lower before sliding them up the hem of Sam's shirt, touching the warm skin beneath. His semi-calloused fingers traced over Sam's hips before sliding over his smooth stomach, feeling the ripples of underlying muscle as Sam let out another soft moan. Slowly Dean's kisses fell across Sam's jaw and up to his ear before falling back to his neck where he kissed, nipped and sucked softly, causing Sam to moan slightly louder and press into Dean's hands. He didn't notice the way Sam's hands trembled slightly as he placed them on Dean's hips, unsure of where they belonged. He brushed his nails lightly over Sam's skin, sending goose-bumps over his heated flesh and a shiver of pleasure down his spine and then his hands were on Sam's hips as Dean continued to ravish his skin down to the juncture when his neck met his collar. Dean nudged away the loose cloth with his nose before pressing a kiss against the point where his collarbone fell away to his shoulder. Sam's breath hitched. Dean bit softly, sucked the flesh purple before kissing away whatever pain he may have caused while Sam moaned and pressed close to Dean, pleasure racing through his veins and turning his blood to fire. It was getting hot, too hot for clothes and Dean broke the kiss and sat up enough to pull his own shirt over his head before going back in to ferociously attack Sam's mouth. His hands began travelling down Sam's stomach, down to his belt loops and he felt Sam's body suddenly freeze and stiffen. He'd never touched Sam, or any man, below the belt before and he moved his hand down to cup the hard bulge in Sam's jeans, excited to finally get his hands on him.

Sam's reaction was sudden and the total opposite of what Dean expected. With strength Dean didn't know Sam possessed the boy pushed the football player off of him and stood up, his breath coming out in pants as he raked his fingers through his hair. The lusty haze in Dean's mind had cleared up enough in those brief moments to notice that Sam's hands were trembling.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was soft and questioning but Sam didn't look at him.

Dean frowned and slid off the bed, not quite sure of what was going on but under the full realization that groping Sam was a big screw-up on his part. He stood by Sam's side and studied his startled companion. Sam's cheeks were flushed, his lips still spit slicked, swollen and a deep shade of pink that bordered red from the ferocity of their kiss. Dean also noticed that Sam's eyes were glassy and damp with the threat of tears.

_Fuck_, Dean swore inwardly and lightly touched Sam's shoulder. "Sammy?"

Sam tensed slightly under Dean's touching but he didn't move. He just stood there, staring at the floor, chewing his bottom lip and blinking furiously, willing himself to calm down. Dean frowned and slowly pulled Sam into a hug.

"Shit, I'm sorry Sam. I should have known you weren't ready," Dean fell quiet as Sam slowly relaxed in his embrace.

"Can we go to bed?" Sam whispered his voice soft and tired. Dean nodded and sat on the bed, waiting for Sam to join him. Sam lay beside him, his head falling onto Dean's chest as his eyes slowly closed towards the end of the movie that neither of them had been watching for the past thirty minutes. As the credits rolled, Dean's thoughts drifted to the image of Sam as he bolted from the bed, trembling and eyes threatening to spill tears.

Dean wondered what could cause such an intense reaction from him. Really, he understood if Sam liked to take things slow, but practically throwing him off the bed and then crying? He felt really awful that he'd made Sam cry (or almost cry or whatever, he upset him, that was the point) and now he knew not to do anything to Sam without asking for permission first, but he was still really at a loss for what he'd done that was so terrible. After all, it wasn't like he'd raped the kid or anything. He wasn't used to having to wait a month to at least get his hands in a girl's pants, but if touching him like that was too much, all he would have had to do was say, 'no' and he would have backed off.

Dean looked down at Sammy's sleeping frame; his lightly-tanned skin still slightly flushed, the light from the television washing over his relaxed face, giving him an almost angelic glow as his soft features were enhanced. High cheeks, long lashes that feathered over his closed eyes, lips parted slightly, breath soft and even as he slept on, his face showing no signs of the distress he'd seen twisting those features earlier. Dean was so caught up in the serenity of Sam's sleeping face that he momentarily forgot the panic of earlier, the only thing he could do at that moment was hold Sam, feel the way they breathed together as he slipped into sleep, their breath and the soft sound of rain dancing on the roof the only sound to be heard, their own lullaby that neither would ever remember.


End file.
